Page 39 of Taming Ivy
“Do you think so? He seems half wild and not to be trusted.”
His laugh was soft. “Some things are better left wild. Like the roses I sent you. Their scent lingered far longer than ordinary hothouse roses, I vow.”
“That’s true although I despise roses…” Ivy bit her lip at the confession.
Sebastian cocked his head as her voice trailed away without an explanation for such a puzzling admission. Didn’t all women enjoy flowers, regardless of the variety, especially if a man thought to give them? Was this why she never kept the floral arrangements sent to her? He assumed she rejected the gifts simply because she relished toying with the men who gave them.
Ivy caressed Raven’s smooth forelock, her mouth tight against any further insights to the cogs of her mind. Sebastian allowed the moment to slip by and decided to focus instead on luring her to him.
“Are you ready to ride, Countess?” Dark with subtle meaning, the words curled around Ivy. When she swayed, he lowered his head to hers. He was so close to those sweet lips he longed to taste again. Unable to erase the flavor of her from his mind, he relived the night of the opera many times. How she came undone on his fingertips, as though she never experienced a climax before. How she clung to him when the wave overtook her. It was so bewitching, the way she reacted to his touch. He longed to slip his hands between her legs again, to elicit the same response again and again until she was limp with pleasure and begging for more.
Raven’s eyes snapped open as the grip upon the leather reins tightened
One quick kiss.No one watched them. He could steal a kiss. Just to sustain him until they were alone. The spark of panic in Ivy’s turquoise eyes told him she realized his intent.
“Come along, you two!” Alan’s voice was booming, tight with frustration. “If you insist on making calf eyes at each other all day, we can’t be blamed when you are left behind.”
Everyone was mounted and ready to depart, staring with ill-concealed amusement and curiosity. Sara, her blue eyes wide with alarm, seemed on the verge of wringing her hands.
Ivy moved until Raven’s sleekly muscled form was between them.
“Coward,” Sebastian whispered, his lips curved in a grin. “No kiss for your groom?”
She blinked. “I hardly think it proper to go about kissing grooms here at Bentley Park, but I shall consider it.” Pulling Lilly’s reins from his loose grip, she stepped to a nearby block to mount the mare on her own. No doubt overhearing her words, a young groom nearly broke his neck jumping to assist her.
Sebastian did not trust himself to reply, and while she swiftly regained her composure, he stood gawking like a simpleton.
Giving the groom a smile of thanks, Ivy settled into the saddle. “Well, maybe not a groom,” she clarified, gazing down from her lofty height, “but perhaps a gentleman who offers his assistance without expecting something in return?”
It was that enigmatic half smile, the flash of challenge in her eyes driving Sebastian’s insatiable need to conquer her. His hands tightened on Raven’s reins until the stallion stomped a hoof, tail swishing in irritation.
“It’s unwise to play games with me, Ivy,” he warned in a low voice, swinging up onto Raven’s back. “You won’t care to pay the price.”
Her reaction was a cool shrug. “You’ve yet to fulfill the wager you lost. Perhaps you are not as lucky as you believe.”
“We’ll see who emerges the true victor.” He nodded at the group trotting away from them. “Shall we join them or stay behind and devise a new wager?”
“You can be quite insufferable,” Ivy said with admirable calmness. “In fact, you recently were referred to as a tyrant.”
Sebastian’s gaze roamed over her. She was so damned beautiful, perched atop the dark mare, wearing an amethyst riding habit and those eyes flashing blue green fire at him. As a tyrant, he could snatch her down from that horse and have his way with her, do things that would have her pleading for more. “We can explore that, if you wish.”
In reply, Ivy nudged her mount forward, quickly trotting after the others while Sebastian chuckled at her avoidance of him and his suggestion.
The outing was enjoyable, although Sebastian insisted on stopping often for varied reasons. To check the bit on Ivy’s mare, to ensure the girth was tight enough, to alter a strap here, a strap there, adjust the stirrup on her saddle. Soon, others gleefully joined in to suggest items requiring his scrutiny.
Each time an inspection was undertaken, he demanded she dismount. Hands encircling her waist, he would swing her from the back of the horse, permitting her to find her footing only after an excruciating long glide down his body. Keeping his back to the others shielded his actions from curious eyes.
The party stopped beside a small, curving stream to allow the horses a bit of water and Sebastian stood at her knee, ready to tug her down once more.
“I insist you put a stop to this,” Ivy stared down at him, gripping the reins.
“What do you mean?” She’d been subjected to the journey down his body seven times thus far, and although immensely pleasurable, Sebastian neglected to consider the pure torture of it. By sheer willpower alone, he suppressed the erection lurking inside him, but it twitched to life each time she shimmied down his length.
“You know exactly what I mean!” Ivy hissed.
The first time Sebastian helped her dismount, she should have slapped him senseless instead of tolerating his actions. He knew she enjoyed his attentions even if she struggled to maintain an air of outraged modesty. Bloody hell…she played this innocent act with practiced flair, her dedication to the performance admirable. If he didn’t know any better, he might have fallen for it.
Slanting Ivy a wicked grin, he seized her about the waist. “Why, Countess, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
